Pass the Snog
by KT the Shimmer Skank
Summary: Ladies and gentlemen, by the order of George Weasley, it is Pass the Snog Day! Sheer insanity ensues as a cursed snog is passed around Hogwarts. Who will snog who? *COMPLETE*
1. Let the Snogging Begin!

Disclaimer: Naturally, I don't own any of these characters and I don't make any profit.  
  
Notes/Warnings: This story is rated PG-13 for a bit of language and enough snogging to make you go bonkers ^_^ There's a bit of slash and incest, but nothing dramatic. It's just friendly snogging, after all.  
  
George fell out of his four-poster bed that morning, and let out a howl as his head hit the hard floor of the dormitory. "Bloody hell," he muttered.  
  
Fred, rather sleepy eyed, looked over at his twin from his bed. "What's all the fuss about, George?"  
  
"I fell out of bed. I think I'm going to have a bruise. Ugh. What a way to start--" he stopped speaking abruptly. "Wait a minute..." He got off the floor and ran over to the wall to check the calendar. "All right! Finally!"  
  
Fred looked curiously over at his brother. "Err... Are you feeling okay?"  
  
George clapped his hands with delight and bounced around the room. "Of course I am. I'm feeling superb. I've been waiting for this day all week."  
  
"And what day is that?"  
  
A mischievous grin spread across George's face, and he marched slowly towards his twin. Fred fumbled around, looking for his wand, for the look on George's face gave him the impression he was up to no good. "Come here, you slimey git," said George with a laugh. He grabbed Fred by the pajamas and pulled him to him, giving him a fierce kiss, not hesitating to slip a bit of tongue in as well.  
  
Fred pushed his brother off of him, utterly bewildered. George stood before him, laughing. "Have you gone stark raving mad?!"  
  
"Not at all. Today's Pass the Snog Day!"  
  
Fred's eyes were still wide as grapefruits, and he still had the impression his brother had gone off his rocker. "What are you talking about, George? You just kissed me, you nutter!"  
  
George nodded and beamed with pride. "That's right I did. And now you've got only half an hour to pass it to someone else!"  
  
"Er... Come again?"  
  
George sighed with impatience, and realized he was going to have to explain it all if he wanted things to go the way he'd planned. "A week ago, you see, I stumbled upon the Snogging Spell."  
  
Fred snorted. "The Snogging Spell? You're full of it."  
  
"No, really! Years ago, Pass the Snog Day used to be an unofficial tradition here at Hogwarts. Then one year some git of a Headmaster put a stop to it, and it's been hushed up ever since. I found out about it, though, and I performed the spell on myself. It starts today! I passed the Snog to you, and now you have to pass it to someone else within half an hour. If you don't, you'll be hit by the Soggy Snog Curse."  
  
Fred eyed his brother incredulously. "The Soggy Snog Curse? Come off it, George. You've gone mad."  
  
"It's true, I tell you. You'll get wretched boils all over your mouth, and they won't go away until this time next year. Go on then, and wait for half an hour to pass if you don't believe me." George snickered. "Then you'll see."  
  
Fred sighed and rolled his eyes. "Well, thanks alot George. This is just peachy."  
  
George gave his twin's shoulder a nudge. "Aw, don't be such a spoil sport! This is going to be fun! Just pass the snog on to someone else, and you won't have a thing to worry about for the rest of the day. You can't be snogged again once you've already had it passed to you. You can sit back with me and watch the fun!"  
  
Fred was uncertain. He was still baffled by the fact that his twin brother had just given him a slippery and wild kiss, and that he seemed to be slightly out of his mind. He had to admit to himself, though, that George's lapse in sanity might just prove to invoke a day of wonderful entertainment. "Well, all right then. I guess I'd better get to passing this snog then, eh?"  
  
George grinned. "That's the spirit!" George danced around the room for a bit, which confirmed Fred's suspicions that his brother had indeed gone mad.  
  
"Wake up, boys, wake up!" George hollered for the rest of the dormitory to hear. "We've got a great day ahead of us. Wake up!" The other boys started to stir, looking over at George with confusion and irritation in their eyes. George ran over the door and swung it open. He leaned out and called merrily, for the entire tower to hear, "Wake up, Gryffindors! It's Pass the Snog Day!" 


	2. Fred Passes the Snog

Fred hurriedly got ready for school and rushed to wait at the bottom of the stairs that led up to the girls' dormitory. He knew the least awkward person to kiss would be Angelina Johnson. So far, they were just friends, but he occasionally got the impression that their feelings were much friendlier than friends normally felt. As he waited at the foot of the stairs, he thought back on the many occasions when he almost HAD kissed Angelina. It wasn't that he was afraid, he was just... oh wait. Yes, it was because he was afraid. Whenever he thought it was precisely the right moment to snatch a tasty kiss from Angelina's lips, he would suddenly take notice of her intense brown eyes, and back away. Well, not today! Nothing like a Soggy Snog Curse for a little motivation, eh?  
  
He began to grow impatient as he waited and saw no sign of Angelina. He tapped his foot, and wiped a drop of sweat from his brow. He mentally prepared himself. *As soon as you see her, just make a dash at her* he told himself. *Kiss first, explain later. Yeah, that'll be the best approach.* He noted to himself that he should also be prepared to duck directly afterwards, for Angelina's Quidditch years had given her muscular arms and mean right hook. He hoped, however, that Angelina would be delighted rather than infuriated to receive an early-morning snog.  
  
Would she be angry with him, he wondered, that he had passed onto her the burden of the Snogging Spell? He knew that he himself had been rather troubled by the whole ordeal-- then again he had been passed the Snog by his twin brother, a bizarre experience in itself. And then an even more troubling thought came to mind. Who would Angelina kiss once she had been passed the Snog? She couldn't return it to Fred, for George had already told him the Snog couldn't double back. Fred was suddenly quite bothered by thoughts of Angelina kissing someone else. Was that what he wanted? Perhaps he should consider someone else to snog?  
  
He watched as other girls came down the stairs and left the dormitory to go to breakfast. He examined all of them in a panic, wondering if he should just run up to one of them and get it over with. He began to sweat and fidget nervously. It's only a snog, Fred, it shouldn't be a big deal! And yet he found himself utterly confused. The clock was ticking... and the girls passing by him were becoming fewer in number... his feet seemed glued to the floor... and there was no sign of Angelina... Ahhh! Damn George's madness and the bloody Snog! Fred made a mental note to give his brother a good whomping before the day was through. He began to slap his forehead in frustration, unsure of what his move would be.  
  
"What's he doing?" Lee Jordan asked George. They stood in the Gryffindor common room, watching Fred pound away at his own head.  
  
"Ah, that," George replied. "He's just a little upset about Pass the Snog Day."  
  
"Pass the Snog Day? You mean what you were making all that ruckus about this morning when you woke up the whole bloody tower?"  
  
"Yup, that's the one. I'm re-introducing Hogwarts' greatest tradition!" George's eyes were sparkling with pride for himself.  
  
Lee glanced with curious eyes over at George, who had a rather stupid look on his face, and then over at Fred, who was still bashing his own head and even appeared to be mumbling to himself. He seemed very doubtful of George's statement. "Er... is that a fact?"  
  
George nodded vigorously.  
  
Fred stopped slapping himself and grew quite tired of tormenting himself. He would simply have to go for it. However, there was still no sign of Angelina. He wasn't sure how long he'd been waiting, but he had a feeling his thirty minutes were quickly being used up.  
  
"Oi, Alicia!" he said impatiently as he spotted fellow Quidditch player Alicia Spinnet coming down the stairs. "Have you seen Angelina?"  
  
"She left for breakfast some time ago," said Alicia.  
  
"Oh, great," muttered Fred. He made a dash for the portrait-hole.  
  
"Oh and Fred," called George as his brother swept passed him.  
  
Fred stopped in his tracks and turned to face his brother, with whom he was already a bit angry. "Yeah?"  
  
"Be sure and make it a good snog, okay?" He grinned his manic grin. "No ordinary peck is going to satisfy the Snogging Spell. It's got to be outstanding, with lips and tongue and the lot. Just like I showed you this morning."  
  
Fred rolled his eyes and shuddered at the same time. "Gee, thanks for the clarification, George." He shook his head and hurried out of the common room. As he left, Lee turned to George with raised eyebrows and questioning eyes. He seemed equally shocked and curious about what exactly George meant when he said, "just like I showed you this morning."  
  
Fred hurried down the halls of Hogwarts, hoping he wasn't running out of time. So far, he hadn't gotten boils all over his lips, so he was doing all right. He burst open the doors to the Great Hall, which caused many turned heads, and frantically scanned over the Gryffindor table for Angelina. She was sitting calmly on the far left of the table, spreading butter over a muffin. He began running towards her.  
  
"Angelina!" he yelled.  
  
Angelina looked up, curious to see why Fred was yelling and running about like a madman. Indeed, much of the rest of the Great Hall was also watching Fred with fascination.  
  
"Er... something wrong, Fred?" asked Angelina once he was near to her.  
  
Fred flopped on the table beside her, knocking over a pitcher of orange juice that just happened to fall into Neville's lap, and went right at snogging Angelina. He noticed vaguely that there was much more lips and tongue and the lot going on than there had been with George earlier that morning.  
  
"Have you gone mad?" Angelina asked quite calmly as the two pulled away.  
  
Fred smiled. "You know, that's exactly what I said to George."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
George and Lee were coming up right behind where Fred had come through, and both of them were laughing loudly. "Good show, Fred, good show," said George as he hooted with glee.  
  
"What a performance!" said Lee.  
  
George gave Fred a slap on the back. "You know, you had a good ten minutes to go, Fred. You didn't have to make such a fuss."  
  
Fred felt slightly embarrassed. "Oh. Well... you know."  
  
Angelina looked back and forth between Fred, George, and Lee. "Would you all mind telling me what this is all about?"  
  
"It's Pass the Snog Day!" George proclaimed with pride.  
  
"Yes, that's what I heard VERY early this morning, George. What does it mean?"  
  
"It means you have to pass the Snog I just gave you to someone else within thirty minutes or you'll be cursed," said Fred. He averted her gaze, hoping she wouldn't be angry.  
  
"Hmmm..." said Angelina. "Well, that's a little odd isn't it?" She gazed around the Gryffindor table, and her eyes fell upon little Dennis Creevey. He was watching the older students with his jaw dropped and with nervous excitement in his eyes. When his eyes met Angelina's, he nearly fell out of his seat.  
  
"Hey, kid," she said to him. "Fancy a snog?"  
  
"Eeek!" cried Dennis. Lee and the Weasley twins laughed madly. "S-s-sure! I mean, if you want to!"  
  
Angelina leaned across the table (strangely, taking no notice of Neville, who was still soaked in orange juice) and gave the Creevey child a big, wet kiss. He fainted, and his face fell into his porridge.  
  
Angelina shrugged and looked back at the boys. "Well, that wasn't so bad, was it?"  
  
"Wow," said Lee. "That's quite a woman you've got there, Fred."  
  
Fred blushed. He wished he could have handled it as coolly as Angelina had.  
  
"Well, it's only a snog," Angelina said to Lee. She turned her head and looked at Fred. She gave him a sly grin, making him blush even harder. Blushing was something Fred certainly was not used to doing often.  
  
"Tsk, tsk, Angelina," said George. "It's not any old snog. It's THE Snog. And its journey has only begun!" He laughed wildly, and the others gave each other sideways glances. Yes, indeed, they all knew it was true. George had bought the funny farm. 


	3. Those Silly Creeveys

By the time the rest of the school had poured into the Great Hall for breakfast, rumors were already buzzing about Pass the Snog Day. The younger students were overwhelmed with fits of giggles as they made guesses as to what "Pass the Snog Day" was all about. The older students tried to show up on another by proving how much each of them knew about the said holiday. Breakfast was alive with excited and even frightened chatter.  
  
Suddenly, Dumbledore arose from his seat at the staff table. The Great Hall fell silent; it was unusual for Dumbledore to make announcements at breakfast. "It has come to my attention," said the Headmaster with a twinkle in his eye, "that a student has taken it upon themselves to reinstate a tradition long since forgotten." He stared obviously at George Weasley. "I have no idea who it could be, but none the less I am fascinated to see what will come of it. For those of you without ears, it is Pass the Snog Day of which I am speaking." Several first years from the Hufflepuff table broke into a fit of giggles, for they seemed rather embarrassed to hear the wizened Headmaster say the word "snog". The Headmaster did not seem as though he noticed them, and continued. "I would strongly recommend that anyone who finds themselves to have been passed a Snog to pass it on as soon as possible-- or else the consequences would be most unpleasant." The corners of his mouth twitched slightly at this, as if they were fighting a smile.  
  
As soon as Dumbledore sat down, the Hall buzzed with chatter yet again. Dennis Creevey awoke suddenly, and pulled his head out of his porridge. "What? Where-- Where am I?" He looked about him with a great deal of fear in his eyes, when he spotted Angelina. He blushed furiously when he remembered what had happened. He stood up in his seat to see over the heads of all the students in the Hall. When he spotted his brother, he jumped off his seat and scurried along the Hall to the other end of the Gryffindor table.  
  
"Colin! Colin!" he squeaked, as cold porridge dripped down his face.  
  
"What is it, Dennis?" asked Colin in a voice that was almost as squeaky.  
  
Dennis began to bounce up and down with joy. "I've been snogged, Colin! Angelina Johnson passed me the Snog!"  
  
"Really? Wow! This is fantastic! But why is your face covered in porridge?"  
  
"Who cares? I've got the Snog!"  
  
Colin grinned and clapped his hands. "Wee! My brother's got the Snog! My brother's got the Snog!"  
  
The two grabbed each other's hands and danced around in a circle, squealing with delight like little girls.  
  
Dennis stopped suddenly, his innocent eyes wide with seriousness. "Oh, my god! Oh, my god, Colin! What do I do? Who do I Snog? Do you think it's been half an hour?" His high-pitched voice began to wail and tears poured down his face. "I don't want to be cursed, Colin! Waaaaaaaah...."  
  
Colin looked all around the hall. He began flailing his hands in a panic. "Err... I don't know... Oh no, Dennis! I think I see something forming on your lips! Or wait, maybe that's porridge... but maybe it's not!" Dennis began to wail louder. "Quick, Dennis, pass it to me! Pass me the Snog!"  
  
In an utter panic, Dennis leaned forward and gave his brother a good snog. As he backed away, he fainted again.  
  
Colin smacked his lips. "Er... I think he gave me some of his porridge." Colin paused suddenly. "Hey... now I've got the Snog! Whoopee! What do I do? Who do I pass it to? Only half an hour... how will I ever decide?!" Just as his mind was beginning to race, he was suddenly hit in the face by a banana.  
  
"Hey, Creevey!" said a sixth-year from the Gryffindor table, who was apparently the thrower of the banana. "Pipe down, will ya? You're talking to yourself!"  
  
"Sorry!" Colin squeaked back. He began to take a walk around the Great Hall, weaving in and out of the tables and surveying the student body. Some of the students were still eating, while others were collecting their things and getting ready for their first class. Colin would have to choose quickly and carefully. An honor as great as passing the Snog did not just come up every day. He had been waiting his whole life for this! Or he would have, anyway, if it weren't for the fact that he had only found out about the Snog that very day. None the less, he was thrilled to take on the duty.  
  
The bell rang, and students began to file out of the Great Hall. "Yipes!" Colin said to himself. "I've got to pass the Snog quick, before everyone goes to class."  
  
"Colin, are you all right?" said a voice.  
  
Colin turned to see none other than the famous Harry Potter standing by him. Not only that, but he was speaking to him! This was rare indeed.  
  
Harry waved his hand in front of Colin's face. "Hellooo? Colin? You were talking to yourself. Are you feeling okay?"  
  
Colin seemed frozen, too numb to speak. He merely nodded his head.  
  
"All right then." Harry walked away, followed by Ron and Hermione.  
  
Harry Potter. Harry Potter! The idea struck Colin like a banana to the face. Who else was more deserving of the Snog than his idol, Harry Potter? But wait... Harry was now well on his way out the Hall. *Come back!* Colin cried in his head. *Come back! I've got to snog you!* But no words came out of his mouth. The Great Hall was becoming progressively empty. If he didn't act soon, Harry would be in his first class, and out of Colin's reach.  
  
"Colin Creevey," he said to himself in a low (low as he could manage, anyway) and mysterious voice. "Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to pass the Snog to Harry Potter."  
  
He marched out of the Great Hall, mumbling encouraging words to himself, as many other students gawked at him in awe. As he moved through the hallways, he stayed close to the walls, hiding behind corners and suits of armor whenever he thought he might be spotted.  
  
"Dun dun... Dun dun.. Dun dun dun!" he sang, moving slyly through the corridors with his self-made secret agent theme song to accompany him. At last he arrived upon Harry and his two friends, just as they were pulling open the door.  
  
"No!" cried Colin, sweeping across the hallway. Everything moved in slow motion as he pushed students aside, grabbed a rather frightened and confused Harry Potter by the robes, and snogged him.  
  
"Ahhh!" cried Harry, pulling away. "Colin, what's the matter with you?"  
  
But Colin was utterly pleased with himself. "I've done it! I've succeeded." He gave himself a salute. He then gave Harry a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Pass the Snog, Harry! And good luck!" 


	4. A Snogtastic Transfiguration Lesson

Note: I'm fairly certain that Gryffindors haven't had Transfiguration with Ravenclaws in the past, but in this story, they do. Deal with it :p ... On with the snogging!  
  
The final bell rang, and Harry was heavy with fret as he sat down in Transfiguration. Ron sat down beside him, laughing out loud.  
  
"That was bloody brilliant!" he teased. "I'll be laughing about this all week! Just when I thought that Creevey kid couldn't get any weirder."  
  
"Really, Ron," Hermione scolded. "You're acting like a child."  
  
"Oh, come off it, Hermione. You were laughing, too!"  
  
"I most certainly was not!"  
  
Harry tuned them out. It was all good and well for them to be playful-- they weren't in possession of a cursed snog. Harry sighed in dismay. He had faced all sorts of dangers throughout his years at Hogwarts. He'd battled Lord Voldemort twice, defeated an enormous ancient serpent, dealt with nosy reporters, and faced a full-grown dragon head-on. But finding someone to snog in only half an hour? That was a task that exceeded even the bravery of Harry Potter.  
  
As he thought about it, he knew very well who he would have liked to snog. He grinned a bit as the face of Cho Chang started to dance around in his head. He was positively tickled as he imagined what Cho's lips might taste like. They were so soft and pink, like tiny silk pillows. Or maybe a tiny couch. A cozy, pink couch on Cho's face... Err... Wait. Why was he daydreaming about kissing miniature furniture? Oh well. It didn't really matter, seeing as Cho was off somewhere in another part of the building, and he had only half an hour to find someone. He looked over at the Ravenclaws they had class with that period. If only Cho weren't a year ahead, she would be right there for him to snog. Harry licked the tips of his fingers and pressed them softly against his lips, imagining they were Cho's tender lips...  
  
"Harry!" snapped Hermione from the desk beside him. "What' the matter with you? What on *earth* are thinking about?!"  
  
"Couches," Harry answered quickly.  
  
"Well, snap out of it. You haven't been taken any notes!"  
  
"Oh... right." Hermione left him alone to return to her own notes, but Harry still didn't pick up his quill. His head was swimming with too many thoughts to worry about lessons.  
  
"All right then, split up into groups," said Professor McGonagall. "Practice together a few times."  
  
"Huh?" said Harry, looking around him. "What are we doing?"  
  
Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes. "We're changing folding chairs into St. Bernards. It's a good thing you have me in your group, you obviously weren't paying attention at all."  
  
"Sorry... I was distracted by the cursed snog I now possess." He tried to repress the frustration he felt and avoid taking it out on Hermione.  
  
"Oh, not that rubbish? You can't believe everything you hear, Harry."  
  
Ron, coming over to join the group for practice, jumped in. "You can believe it when Dumbledore says it himself," he said. "I'd get rid of the Snog, Harry, and fast."  
  
"It's hardly that simple," Harry replied glumly. He looked up at Hermione. "Hey, Mione, do you suppose..."  
  
"Absolutely not!" cried Hermione. "You're not passing any curse to me."  
  
"But you didn't even believe in it!" Harry sighed, seeing that Hermione would not budge. He searched the other faces in the room.  
  
"Don't look at me!" Ron snapped, before Harry could say or do anything. "What you do behind close doors is your business, but don't drag me into it..."  
  
"WHAT? I hope you don't mean what I think you mean..." Ron said nothing. "Hey! I was not even *thinking* about passing it to you. And just because Colin went bonkers and kissed me doesn't make me ga--"  
  
"All right!" said Hermione, putting a stop to things. "Let's not lose our heads. Harry, why don't you just ask Parvati if you can pass it to her? You two are fairly neutral acquaintances, right? It should be no big deal."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Of course. I'm sure she won't mind.. I think she fancies you a bit, actually."  
  
Seeing no other option before him, Harry crept over to the area where Parvati, Padma, and Lavender were working on their Transfiguration. Ron and Hermione pretended to be discussing wand technique while spying intently on him. Harry gulped, and stepped up to Parvati.  
  
"Yes, Harry?" she said with a look of confusion on her face.  
  
"Er, well..." he began. It was not an easy situation to explain. "You may have heard, but there's this cursed snog going around and..."  
  
"Oh my!" Parvati squealed with wide eyes. She looked at her friends, who were erupting with giggles. "You've got the Snog, don't you Harry!" She joined in the laughter.  
  
Harry blushed slightly, feeling quite frustrated. He didn't see the situation as being even remotely funny. Although he noticed, out of the corner of his eye, that Ron and Hermione seemed to be extremely amused as well. "Listen, I was just wondering if I could snog you. I have to pass it soon or I'll be cursed."  
  
More giggles came from the girls, and more of the other students turned their heads and watched with fascination."Well, I suppose," she said through her laughter. "What are friends for, after all?"  
  
"Err... right. So, should we... err.."  
  
Lucky for Harry, Parvati was not nearly as shy as he was. She went right to snogging him, and pulled away, grinning to herself. Padma and Lavender golf- clapped for her. "So how long have I got to get rid of this Snog, Harry?"  
  
"Half an hour, I think."  
  
"Right then." Without another pause, Parvati turned to her friend Lavender, who was grinning from ear to ear. There was a great deal of gasping, giggling, and even cheering as the two girls began to snog.  
  
"Wow..." said Ron; his jaw, like many of the other males in the class, was nearly on the floor. "That's quite a friendship they have..." His head began to tilt slightly as he gaped at the two "friends".  
  
"Oh, honestly!" huffed Hermione, who was positively revolted by Ron's behavior.  
  
"Students!" cried Professor McGonagall in a fury. "What is the matter with you all?! Stop this at once!" However, McGonagall's demands went unnoticed. Even the infamously strict McGonagall could do nothing against the power of the Snog.  
  
When the two girls had finished (they certainly made the most of their time!), Lavender strolled slyly through the rows of desks. Many eager boys tried to catch her eye; many horrified girls tried to hide behind desks. She pointed to Seamus and lured him to her with a motion of her finger. The giggling in the room was deafening as Lavender and Seamus snogged.  
  
Professor McGonagall sat at her desk, arms folded, pouting. *If I find the nitwit responsible for starting this tradtion back up,* she thought angrily, *I'll transfigure them into a toilet plunger!* 


	5. Poor Neville

By the time Transfiguration was over, Padma Patil had the Snog. The shock of receiving was almost nothing, though, compared to the shock of seeing her twin sister attached at the tongue to Lavender Brown. She walked through the halls, searching through the sea of the student body, looking for a familiar face to snog. Nearly everyone in her own year and house had already received it during the rather scandalous Transfiguration lesson.  
  
She kept an eager eye out for bright orange hair amongst the crowd, but it seemed Ron had disappeared. She would have to settle for someone else. She passed by a group of sniggering Slytherin third years, all of which needed immediate dental care. *Well, I don't have to settle quite that much* Padma noted to herself.  
  
"So I said, why don't you run to your mummy then, Mudblood," hissed a particularly evil voice. Padma turned and saw the aforementioned Slytherins laughing viciously at what obviously been a horrible joke. Upon closer inspection, she saw that the center of attention, the one who had told the joke, was none other than Draco Malfoy. *Silly git* she thought. *Everyone in his own year is tired of all his stories; he has to tell them to all the younger students.*  
  
Padma noted to herself that he had dashing features, however whenever he went around telling moronic stories they tended to contort into hideous scowls. She began to walk towards the Slytherin clique, rolling her eyes as she tuned into the details of his pitiful story.  
  
"And of course my father said--"  
  
"Nobody cares, Malfoy," Padma said airily.  
  
Malfoy cocked his greasy head and sneered at her. "What did you just say?"  
  
"I said no one cares. You're so moody. It's very unbecoming."  
  
The younger Slytherins giggled, while Malfoy's face grew red with anger. He drew his wand slowly. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't turn you into a newt..."  
  
Padma sighed, and taking a page out of Parvati's book, she went straight for the kill. Malfoy was shocked to find a foreign tongue creeping about in his mouth. The other Slytherins stood gaping. When she pulled away, Malfoy's ever-present sneer of confidence and superiority. He was quite dazed and frightened-- very much like a boy who had never been before.  
  
Padma grinned and gave him a slap on the back. "There now. That wasn't so bad! All you needed was a good snog to get that awful scowl off your face." She began to walk away, leaving the Slytherins in awe. She paused a moment, turned her head and said, "Oh, by the way, Malfoy... Pass the Snog!"  
  
The third years giggled. Malfoy shot them a dark glare that immediately achieved their silence. Crabbe and Goyle appeared behind Malfoy, a little late for their cue.  
  
"What was that?" asked an astonished Goyle.  
  
"Did she say Pass the Snog?" asked an even more confused Crabbe.  
  
"Bloody girl passed me that curse!" said Malfoy, although it was hard to suppress a grin as he watched Padma's curves slink away.  
  
"You better get rid of it," said Goyle. He stuttered into his last few words. "You can pass it to me, Draco. I'll take on the duty of it."  
  
Malfoy blinked. "What?"  
  
"I don't mind really..." Goyle suddenly realized what he'd just said. "I mean, I can take it. Don't you worry about me."  
  
Malfoy scoffed. "Hmmmmm..... how about, no?" He laughed at Goyle, who blushed, and the two started walking towards the dungeons for Potions. Crabbe stood there alone, scratching his head.  
  
"Oh!" he said suddenly, a rare look of discovery upon his face. "She passed you the Snog!"  
  
Malfoy rolled his eyes and kept walking to class, as Crabbe ran to catch up. As they turned the corner to the dungeon doors, a group of Gryffindors stood chatting in front of them. Malfoy sneered as he and his cronies passed them.  
  
"And when I cast the spell, it should bring Trevor right to me!" an anxious Neville Longbottom told the group.  
  
Hermione frowned at him. "Are you sure, Neville? I don't think you should be experimenting with spells like that..."  
  
Neville frowned. "But I've got to find Trevor." He raised his wand and muttered a few words that didn't sound like much of anything. Red sparks popped out of nowhere throughout the entire corridor. Neville's robes caught on fire at the torso. He shrieked and began running around in circles. Hermione chased after him, attempting to cast a spell to put out the fire. Malfoy and the other Slytherins hooted joyfully.  
  
"Draco!" shrieked a female voice.  
  
Malfoy turned, confused, to face a frightened Pansy Parkinson. She point at the hem of his robes; Malfoy saw that he, too, had been touch by a stray red spark. The flames rose up nearer to his backside. He squealed like a girl.  
  
"Aguaria!" called Hermione Granger. She had already extinguished Neville's robes, and had come over to help Draco. He noted that she had certainly taken her time in getting there. He could feel the laughter of Gryffindors and Slytherins alike all around him. He scowled at Neville and stormed into the Potions classroom, the rear of his robes both scorched and soaked.  
  
"Thanks, Hermione," Neville said, blushing.  
  
"No problem at all, Neville," she replied. He filed into Potions with the rest of the students.  
  
He grimaced to himself when the bell rang to signal the beginning of class. Potions had always been his least favorite subject for three reasons: Snape, the Slytherins, and Snape. A Potions class could not go by without Gryffindor losing at least ten points on Neville's behalf, and all because Severus Snape was the meanest man that ever walked the face of the planet. Or at least, to Neville, he was. His stomach grew unsettled as Professor Snape came over to Neville.  
  
"Interesting fashion statement, Mr. Longbottom," the Professor hissed as he examined the enormous scorched hole on Neville's chest. Neville squirmed uncomfortably in his seat as the Slytherins guffawed. Professor Snape grinned in acknowledgement of his own joke, and continued. "Five points from Gryffindor for use of magic in between classes." He eyed Neville a final time as though he were vermin, and then moved to the front of the class to begin his lecture.  
  
Just another day in Potions, Neville thought grimly to himself. As he attempted to make sense of Professor Snape's ramblings and put them in note form, he felt a pair of cold eyes watching him. He snuck glances at the nearby table of Slytherins and found that he was under the angry gaze of Draco Malfoy. He gulped. It was considerably harder to concentrate on his notes as the Slytherins spoke to each other in low voices and kept glaring at him. Oh God, thought Neville. What are they going to do to me? Why did I ever try that stupid spell?  
  
Suddenly, Malfoy kissed Pansy Parkinson. Neville thought this to be extremely odd. One minute they appeared to be conspiring against him, and the next minute they were snogging. The peculiarity of it made him even more worried.  
  
"Now, if you'll get out the homework that I hope for your sake you completed, we'll begin preparing the ingredients," growled Professor Snape from the front of the room.  
  
The shuffling of papers could be heard around the room, and people were beginning to chop up garzee-bush roots. Professor Snape turned his back to the class and began searching through a wooden cabinet. Pansy Parkinson stood up from the table and walked towards Neville with a vicious grin on her face. The rest of the Slytherins snickered venomously as the watched. Neville's root chopping became erratic and uncoordinated (although it wasn't too great to begin with).  
  
"Prof-Professor?" cried Neville, who now feared for his life as Pansy came nearer to him. He could only imagine what horror the Slytherins had cooked up for him.  
  
"Not now, Longbottom," Professor Snape grumbled, not turning away from his cabinet.  
  
"But you see.... Pansy..."  
  
"Don't argue with me! I will be there in a moment!"  
  
It was hopeless. No one was going to help him. He would just have to take whatever was coming to him. Pansy was now hovering over him... she was right next to him... she was closing in. and his punishment was...  
  
A snog?  
  
Neville's face turned purple-- red from blushing and blue from lack of oxygen were mixed together. Pansy pulled away, wiped her mouth, and joined in the ferocious laughter that was coming from the Slytherins' side of the classroom.  
  
"Pass the Snog, dork," hissed Pansy.  
  
"That won't be easy," hooted Malfoy gleefully. "No one would snog that ugly git."  
  
Neville felt intense anxiety as the laughter rose in volume; he could actually feel people slowly creeping away from him. It's always me! he thought. Now I'll be cursed. As he thought about it, though, he realized there were already many unpleasant curses he had stumbled upon. Could anything be worse than what he had already experienced? I'll find out in half an hour, he thought glumly.  
  
"What is going on here, Mr. Longbottom?" cried an angry Snape. He seemed to finally have paid any attention. Neville stood silently as the Slytherins continued to roar with laughter. "Why are you disturbing my class?"  
  
"Please, Professor, Neville didn't do anything," spoke up Hermione. "It was the Slytherins."  
  
"Hold your tongue, Miss Granger. I was speaking to Mr. Longbottom." He shifted his cold gaze from Hermione and focused it upon Neville. "Well?"  
  
Neville began to tremble beneath the evil eye of Snape. This was the part he always hated. "Well, I... you see, sir..."  
  
"Don't stutter, Mr. Longbottom! Tell me what happened!"  
  
"I... what happened was... I... err..."  
  
Snape moved closer to Neville. He towered over him and breathed in his face. "ANSWER ME, YOU STUPID BOY!"  
  
"I... I..." Sweat accumulated on his face. The Slytherins laughter only grew. His hands trembled. Snape growled. Every eye in the class was upon him.  
  
He let out a horrible scream, then leaned forward and snogged Professor Snape 


	6. Absolutely Scandalous

If any of the students thought they'd seen Snape at his angriest before, they were wrong. As Neville pulled away, realizing with horror what he'd just done, Snape's face grew scarlet with anger. He looked at Neville with the deadliest of glares; a glare so cold the laughter in the room was immediately silenced.  
  
"FIFTY POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR!" he bellowed. "AND DETENTION FOR MR. LONGBOTTOM!"  
  
Neville seemed to frightened to move or speak. He trembled slightly.  
  
Snape looked at the silent, gaping students all around him; his face was still bright red. "Class dimissed. NOW!"  
  
The awestruck students scurried out into the hall. The Slytherins howled with laughter once they were out of the classroom. Neville reddened and trudged slowly behind the rest of the students; Hermione tried to offer him a few comforting words.  
  
"I don't know what made me do it!" he said, almost to tears. "All I could think of was how I'd never get rid of the Snog..."  
  
"It's all right, Neville," Hermione cooed. "Everyone will forget about it by tomorrow."  
  
"Everyone except for Neville," said Ron. His face was twisted in confusion between disgust and amusement. "He'll need years of therapy to recover from that one." Hermione shot him a be-sensitive-and-shut-your-hole look. He changed the subject. "Well, at least it's gotten us out of class early. We've got some spare time before lunch. What should we do?"  
  
"Let's go for a walk around the lake," suggested Harry. He figured some fresh air would do Neville some good after the horrific ordeal he'd just been through.  
  
"Oh, wait," said Hermione with a frown. "I've left my book bag in the classroom. Wait right here, it will only take me a moment."  
  
"Watch out for Snape," said Ron. "He looks about ready to hex the first person that makes a sudden movement."  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't exaggerate." However, as she turned to walk down the hall, she held her wand close to her for defense. Just in case.  
  
She walked back down the hall and cautiously opened the dungeon doors. She hoped Professor Snape had slipped off somewhere, so she wouldn't be yelled at. She slipped quickly into the room and straight to her lab table, where her book bag was sitting on the floor underneath it. She turned around, and just as she was walking out of the room she noticed Snape for the first time. He turned around at the same time and saw Hermione, whom he'd not heard come in. They both jumped.  
  
"You would do well not to sneak up on a teacher, Miss Granger," he hissed evilly. He was walking frantically about around his desk; pulling books out of shelves, flipping through pages, digging through cabinets.  
  
"Sorry, Professor," she said. "I just had to come back to--" She paused, watching his flurry of peculiar behavior. "Er, what are you doing, Professor?"  
  
"It's no concern of yours, Miss Granger. Now leave my classroom as I previously instructed or I will be forced to take points from Gryffindor."  
  
Hermione, of course, wanted nothing more than to leave as hastily as possible, but she found herself unable to move just then. Professor Snape kept moving nervously about; his hands seemed to be shaking. Hermione had never seen him act so strange. It took all her strength to prevent herself from giggling. Professor Snape, it seemed, was freaking out.  
  
Suddenly, his shaking hands knocked over a glass of green liquid, which exploded upon impact with the ground. Hermione laughed.  
  
Snape shot her a look. "It's not funny!" he said, sounding very much like a child. He wiped his sweaty brow and continued what seemed to be rushed potion-making.  
  
"What are you making, Professor Snape?"  
  
Snape sneered at her. He really wished she would just leave, but he also acknowledged that Hermione was a clever student. Perhaps she could shed some light on his dilemma if he explained it to her. "If it will satisfy your typical Gryffindor nosiness, Miss Granger, I shall tell you. I'm creating an antidote for the Snogging Spell."  
  
More giggles on Hermione's part, though they were silenced upon the icy gaze of Professor Snape. "Wouldn't it be easier just to go Snog someone and make it their problem?"  
  
"Absolutely not! I will not fall victim to this ridiculous tradition and embarass myself by passing the Snog. I've already suffered enough to give me serious mental damage, thank you."  
  
Hermione was almost beside herself with amusement and curiosity. She, nor anyone else for that matter, had seen Professor Snape act this way. The fact that he ever felt "embarassed" was a revelation. Had she been more submissive to her evil side, she would have plotted some way to take exploit his vulnerability. However, Hermione always tended to give in to her sympathetic side.  
  
"Oh, come now," she said. She tried to take the vials from his hands; he gripped them tightly. "This is silly, Professor Snape. If there were an antitode to be found someone would have found it ages ago. This is a very old tradition."  
  
"Well, thank you for that information, Miss Know-It-All Granger, but I don't think you give me nearly enough credit," he spat, tugging at the ingredients Hermione was trying to take from him. "I'll be forced to give you detention if you do not unhand my ingredients."  
  
"It's just not worth it to go through all this trouble, Professor. Even you couldn't find the antidote in only half an hour. Now step away from the potion ingredients."  
  
"I most certainly will not."  
  
Hermione gave him the eye. "Yes, you will."  
  
"No, I won't." They were both very stubborn indeed.  
  
"Will too."  
  
"Will not."  
  
"Will too!"  
  
"Will not!"  
  
"WILL TOO!"  
  
"WILL NOT!"  
  
"WILL T--"  
  
And suddenly, they were snogging.  
  
Snogging ALOT, in fact. Hands wandered along robes and tongues squirmed inside mouths. They found themselves losing balance as they snogged madly, and leaned against Professor Snape's desk. There attention shifted only when another bottle was shoved off, causing an explosion of blue light.  
  
They pulled away sharply, both blushing like raddishes and eyes about as wide as Muggle hubcaps.  
  
"Hmmmm," said Professor Snape in a shaky voice. "Let's not... mention this. Ever."  
  
Hermione nodded furiously. "Right then. Never happened." They stood awkwardly for a moment. "I'd better get going. And, you know, never speak of this again."  
  
Snape nodded. "Indeed."  
  
She turned abruptly and hurriedly exited. Snape eased slowly into his chair, propping his legs up on his desk. Sitting in such a position, it was easily *visible* through his robes just how much he had enjoyed that Snog. "Thank god she didn't see that," he muttered to himself. He exhaled heavily. "I've half a mind to perform a Confundus charm on myself... First Longbottom and then Granger. The madness of it is... well, mad. And now I'm even talking to myself! The git who reawakened this tradition ought to be hung up by his--"  
  
The door of the dungeon swung open and Hermione came flitting in. Snape tried frantically to reposition himself, wanting desperately to hide his erection from view. He fell on his ass.  
  
"Forgot my book bag," she said. She picked it up from beside Snape's desk and hurried back out as quick as she had come.  
  
She met up with Ron, Neville, and Harry in the hallway, still feeling a little shaken.  
  
Ron let out an exasperated sigh. "Finally," he said. "How long could it possibly take to get a bookbag?"  
  
"I have no idea what you are implying!" she shrieked, eyes wide with fear. The three boys stared at her.  
  
"Are you feeling okay, Hermione?" asked Harry.  
  
"I'm fine. What's with the third degree?" They continued to stare.  
  
"Well, you're acting rather nervous..."  
  
"Just back off!" She paused, beginning to sweat under their curious stares. It's... Er, girl problems. Yeah, girl problems."  
  
That seemed to be quite enough to hush the three boys up, and she let out a sigh of relief as the matter was dropped. 


	7. A Simple Matter of Snogging

The wheels in Hermione's mind were turning. Panic was the key thing to avoid. She had half an hour to get rid of the snog. It could be done if she remained calm and formulated a plan. She thought vaguely there might be a book in the library on the fastest way of getting rid of Snogs, but she shook off that idea. No time for the library. It was a simple matter of snogging. A simple matter. Simple matter. She kept telling herself that over and over again. She had to remind herself to keep a cool head, and that surely someone as smart as her wouldn't have any trouble with a SIMPLE MATTER OF SNOGGING.  
  
Harry and Neville had already been snogged, she observed. So they weren't fair game. She decided on snogging Ron. They were good friends, after all, and he was right there. It should be quite painless. Right?  
  
"Ron, could you come here a moment?" Hermione asked. She found that her voice was shaking. Now why was that? She wondered in awe. Surely there was nothing about *Ron* that would make her feel nervous?  
  
The three boys stopped walking. Ron turned and walked to Hermione. "What is it?" he asked, brow raised. "What's the matter?"  
  
She herself blush. Blush?! Now why on earth was she blushing? It was only Ron... only a SIMPLE matter of snogging, right? "Er... well... I need to ask a favor." A drop of sweat accumulated on her forehead. Now that was just not normal!  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
There was impatience to his voice. Bloody boy. Didn't he know this things took time? Or wait-- did they take time? Were simple matters so difficult to express? Hermione began to think snogging Ron wasn't quite so simple a matter. "You see... I've got this... this..." Spit it out, Mione! "I've got to go." She barely finished speaking before taking off down the hall and around the corner.  
  
"Now you've gone and upset her," said Harry.  
  
"Me?" said Ron, jaw dropped. "What did I do?"  
  
"I'm not sure, but you better go after he and find out what."  
  
Ron shrugged and sighed. "Well, I guess someone's got to go after her." He observed Harry and Neville skeptically for a moment. He leaned in to Neville and said in a somewhat quieter voice, "Watch yourself, Neville. You might not want to get to close to Harry, if you know what I mean."  
  
Harry fumed. "I told you before, I am not gay! Colin kissed me!"  
  
"Sure... I'd better get after Hermione now." Ron took off in the same direction Hermione, as Neville inched slowly away from Harry.  
  
Ron turned the corner, looking for Hermione. For a moment he thought she was long gone, when suddenly he saw a flicker of bushy brown hair going through a door. He caught up, and saw that she had gone inside the girls bathroom.  
  
"Great," Ron thought aloud. "What am I supposed to do now?" He scratched his head. He pressed his ear against the door and listened. He heard people talking inside, followed by a wretched moaning sound. Was Hermione crying? Now Ron was really confused. He listened harder... No, it wasn't Hermione's cries he heard. It was Moaning Myrtle. He stepped back from the door and inspected it.  
  
"Oh yeah..." he said. "This is Moaning Myrtle's bathroom." Knowing that no girls would be in there, he pushed open the door. "Bloody hell..." He immediately thought he might be scarred for life after what he witnessed in that bathroom.  
  
It was hard to tell, because of Myrtle's translucent-ness, but it appeared as though she and Hermione were snogging. The brunette's tongue wiggled about like a pink serpent, seemingly in midair, as the blue-gray ghost hovered around her and giggled.  
  
Ron fainted.  
  
"Oh, dear!" said Hermione when she heard the heavy thud. She ran over to Ron, who was now soaking wet from lying on Myrtle's ever-flooded floor. Myrtle flew around the room, pointing at Ron and cackling madly. "Ron, are you okay?" She pulled out her wand from the folds of her robe, swished it about, and recited a minor spell.  
  
Ron stirred slowly, looking about the room. He discovered the his head was in Hermione's lap and he blushed slightly.  
  
"Ron, what happened?" asked Hermione in a worried tone. "Are you all right?"  
  
"Well, I just thought I saw you..." Ron began. Then it all came back him. "I saw you kissing Moaning Myrtle!"  
  
Hermione shifted uncomfortably, while Myrtle only laughed harder.  
  
"What's the matter, Ronnikins?" Myrtle teased. "You're not into that scene?"  
  
"Myrtle!" snapped Hermione. She turned to the bewildered Ron. "I know it looks a little odd, but I had to snog her... You see..."  
  
"Ugh!" said Ron. "How could you do that?"  
  
"I had the bloody Snog, Ron! I had to pass it."  
  
Ron scratched his head. "No, I mean, literally, how could you do it? Is that even physically possible?"  
  
Myrtle grinned. "Like to find out, would you?" Without a moment's pause, the ghost had dove upon him. As her plasma-like lips touched his, Ron felt a bone-chilling cold shoot through every inch of his skin. He felt dizzy and light-headed, as if someone had enclosed him in a cube of ice, and thought he just might faint again.  
  
Myrtle was utterly pleased with herself as she broke away. "Pass the Snog Day is the best thing to happen to this school in years!" she proclaimed, happily floating away to the U-bend.  
  
"Er... Ron, you all right?" asked Hermione.  
  
Ron was horrorstruck. "I'm scarred, I tell you. For life. I thought Neville had it bad when he snogged Snape, but that was ungodly." Hermione blushed as this comment, and Ron's wheels began to turn. "Wait a minute. Hermione, how did YOU get the Snog?" Hermione blushed harder and did not reply. "Hermione! Did you... you snogged Snape, didn't you?!"  
  
"Er... well... no comment."  
  
Ron sat up, removing his head from Hermione's lap. "I think I'm going to be sick."  
  
"You can use my toilet!" Moaning Myrtle called out.  
  
"Shut up!" Ron shook his head. "Honestly, Hermione! This is the stupidest thing you've ever done! Are you out of your bloody mind! And let's not forget all the things he's done to us over the years... how could you do that to our friendship..."  
  
Hermione smirked. "What exactly have I done to our friendship, Ron?"  
  
It was Ron's turn to blush. "Now, see here, that is NOT what I meant!"  
  
"Oh, really?"  
  
"Yes, really! And don't try to change the subject! This is just horrible. You've insulted your two best friends by kissing that slimy git, and furthermore--" Ron froze, stopped speaking, and blushed furiously. Hermione had just planted a sticky-sweet kiss on his cheek.  
  
"Come off it, Ron," she said, standing up. "We've got more important things to worry about than who I have or haven't snogged."  
  
Ron was dazed, softly touching the aforementioned cheek. "Huh? Like what?"  
  
"Like finding someone for you to pass the Snog to." 


	8. Lunch Break

As Hermione tried to negotiate with Alicia Spinnet, Ron stood a few feet away from them, sweating slightly and pacing. The clock was ticking on the Snogging Spell that Ron now carried on his lips. Much to his surprise, there weren't many girls at Hogwarts who jumped at the opportunity to snog him.  
  
"All right, all right," said Hermione, playing the role of the sweet- talking go-between. "I'll do your homework for a week and I'll help you study for that Arithmancy test; flash cards and everything."  
  
Alicia bit her lip, contemplated the offer, and took a glance at the pacing Ron. She sighed with a friendly smile. "Oh, sure. Why not. Anything to help a friend." Hermione turned to Ron, giving him the thumbs up.  
  
In shock, he hurried over to Alicia and puckered up.  
  
Alicia giggled at the younger student, and leaned forward to snog him. Ron moaned in boyish delight as the seventh-year's tongue worked magic (pardon the pun) inside his mouth. Hermione stood and watched in horror. Her hands rested on her hips as she cast shocked and jealous (though she certainly was not jealous in any way, shape, or form!) looks at the two of them. After the first minute, she finally resolved to pull them apart, saying, "Very well, I'm sure that's more than enough magical snogging, thank you..."  
  
Alicia giggled again, as Ron's lips still squirmed like a fish out of water, even though the kiss had ended. She gave him a childish pat on the head. "There you go, Ronnikins." She promptly skipped away.  
  
"Wow," said Ron at last, his eyes dreamily gazing in the direction Alicia had left. "Who knew older girls were so... talented."  
  
Hermione huffed and rolled her eyes. "Oh, honestly!" She tugged less-than- politely on his arm and dragged him into the Great Hall, where the other students were just beginning lunch.  
  
Ron and Hermione took their seats across from Harry and Neville (Neville of course sitting a safe distance away from Harry). Harry looked over at them questiongly.  
  
"Is everything all right?" he asked.  
  
"Oh, certainly," replied Hermione as she helped herself to some lunch. "Whatever gave you the idea that anything was wrong?"  
  
"But--"  
  
"Just let it go, Harry," said Ron, stuffing his face. "Trust me, you don't want to know any more."  
  
The students continued to eat their meals when suddenly the chatter of the Great Hall was interrupted as Lee Jordan burst through the doors screaming. Everyone stared at him for a moment as he ran to the Gryffindor table, before returning to their meal-time talk as if nothing had happened.  
  
"You've got to hide me," said Lee, squeezing into the Gryffindor table and using Fred and George as human shields.  
  
"What's the matter, Lee?" asked Hermione, looking over at the sixth-year boy.  
  
"It's Eloise Midgen! She's been after me all morning, saying she's got to pass the Snog!" He ducked further down behind Fred and George. "I don't want to be cursed! Even worse, I don't want to be snogged by Eloise Midgen!"  
  
George laughed. "Lee, Eloise doesn't have the Snog."  
  
Lee's brow furled. "She doesn't?"  
  
George shook his head as he reached into his pocket and produced a roll of parchment. "Nope. You see, I've been tracking the Snog all day... Eloise hasn't even been near the Snog. The last I heard from my sources was that Alicia has it."  
  
Hermione gave George a suspicious look. "You've followed the Snog the ENTIRE day? You mean, you know every person it's been to?"  
  
George looked over at her with a devilish grin. "Yes, Hermione, I know exactly who you've snogged, if that's what you're getting at. But don't worry, my lips are sealed... for a price, that is..."  
  
"George Weasley!" Hermione's face was bright red with a combination of anger and embarassment.  
  
"Only joking, Hermione, dear." He chuckled.  
  
"Hermione, you had the Snog?" asked Harry in disbelief. "Who gave it to you?"  
  
"Oh... uh... Well, what does it matter, anyway? This whole thing is really quite immature if you asked me. I can't imagine what childish prankster could possibly find pleasure in watching this..." Hermione stopped suddenly, and looked over at the sinister-looking George. Everyone else followed her gaze, getting the same idea.  
  
"George...." said Hermione, with an accusing mother-like tone. "Did you happen to initiate Pass the Snog Day?"  
  
George shrugged, and a whimsical look came over his face. "The question is not, did I initiate Pass the Snog Day... The question is, did I happen to reinstate an age-old Hogwarts tradition, thus bringing unimaginable joy and educational value to our drab school? If that, Hermione, is the question you mean to ask, then the answer is undoubtedly... no comment."  
  
Hermione sighed. "Oh, honestly."  
  
The table was joined by Katie Bell, who had a look of combined shock and amusement on her face. She sighed and muttered, "What a world..."  
  
"Er, Katie?" asked Fred, inspecting her with curiosity. "Is everything all right?"  
  
Katie paused and looked around the table, at the faces that were now awaiting her response. She seemed to be considering them for a moment, deciding whether or not to share something. She finally made up her mind and said, speaking with a hint of excitement, "I just saw the most bizarre thing I've ever seen at this school."  
  
"Even more bizarre than the time Professor Trelawny and Professor Binns went skinny dipping in the lake?" asked Neville.  
  
Katie thought for a moment, then nodded fiercely. "Yes, even more bizarre than that."  
  
The others waited for her to continue, hanging on the edge of their seats.  
  
"Well?" asked Fred.  
  
"It's Alicia..." Katie cringed, as if the very thought of it gave her chills. "I just found her... in a broom closet... snogging.... with Filch."  
  
There was a simultaneous shudder throughout the group. Lee looked as if he was about to cry.  
  
"I'll never look at her the same way again," he said, shaking his head.  
  
Ron's face had grown rather green. "And to think... she put her Filch-ified tongue in MY mouth. I'm not feeling so good..."  
  
Hermione gasped and supressed a giggle. "So... do you know what this means?" The others looked at her. "Filch has got the Snog." 


	9. One Word: Filch

Argus Filch sat in his office, his legs propped up on his desk. His cat Mrs. Norris sat comfortably on his lap, and he stroked it. He looked around the room, sighing with discontent and grumbling to himself. An old clock ticked menacingly on the wall, teasing him.  
  
"Serves me right for getting involved with a student," he said to Mrs. Norris. "Bloody girl's gone and given me a curse. Filthy students, always going around hexing this and cursing that." Mrs. Norris meowed in agreement.  
  
He grimaced. How in the bloody hell was he supposed to find someone to snog? Students and teachers alike made it a point to avoid Filch at all costs. Nearly everyone in the entire building despised him (the feeling was mutual, of course). He hadn't the foggiest idea of where to go looking for someone who would even come close to willing to let him snog them.  
  
As if the fates had been listening (although what fates could possibly be bored enough to want to listen to Filch and his cat?), there came a knock at his door. Severus Snape slithered in his head, looking dark and moody as always.  
  
"Filch," he said in an unfavorable tone. "I need slug repellant." His nose wrinkled in disgust. "Students have been playing pranks in the dungeon halls."  
  
Filch nodded vaguely, sliding Mrs. Norris off his lap and walking across the room. He grabbed a purple spray bottle and carried it over the door. He inspected Snape for a moment before handing him the bottle, contemplating. "Say, Snape..." he said, trying to sound casual.  
  
"Don't bother," said Snape as he rolled his eyes. "I've already had the Snog. And even if I hadn't gotten it yet, not in a million years would I let you snog me." He snatched the slug repellant from Filch's hands.  
  
"Er... I wasn't..."  
  
"Riiiiight." Severus slammed the door in Filch's face, leaving the custodian alone in the gloom of his office yet again. Filch noted to himself how unrealistically quickly gossip spread through the school. Mrs. Norris pranced beside him and meowed.  
  
"You're bloody right I'm screwed," he grumbled to the cat. He shoved his hands in his pockets and paced around the room. He bit his lip in thought, looking up at the clock in dread every few minutes. He sighed. "Maybe a walk would do me good..." He grinned at the prospect of running into students who were up to no good, and punishing them mercilessly.  
  
He creeped ominously through the halls with his cat by his side. He tried to push the inevitable curse that was about to be upon him out of his mind. Much to his dismay, he found no students to pick on. He did, however, notice something of interest. He saw Professor McGonagall, taking a moment to gaze at a case of Quidditch trophies. Surely McGonagall hadn't gotten much snogging lately... maybe she was just desperate enough to help Filch in his situation. He straightened his coat, and licked the palms of his hands to slick back his hair. He coyly slithered up to McGonagall. (Wait, now, and take a moment to truly picture this: Filch.... slithering. Mad, isn't it?)  
  
"Good day, Professor," he said in his smarmiest voice. He stepped closer to her. "You know, I saw you standing here... and, coincidently, I happen to be standing here, too, so I thought maybe..."  
  
McGonagall gasped suddenly as she realized what he was getting at. "Argus Filch!" she snapped, as if speaking to one of her students. "Don't you come an inch closer! If you bring that cursed snog any nearer to me, I'll turn your cat into a rutabaga!" She turned with a huff and briskly walked away.  
  
Filch sighed again and continued on his walk. "It's hopeless," he grumbled to himself. (This man does alot of grumbling, no?) As he neared the corner, he began to detect an intoxicating smell, like cheap perfume. He was less than surprised to see Professor Trelawney turn the corner, twirling her hands around in that creepy mystical way she does.  
  
"Ah... good afternoon, Argus," she said in her misty voice.  
  
"Er... Hello, Professor," he said, trying not to make eye contact. "Don't you have tutoring right now?"  
  
Her eyes twinkled. "Why yes, Argus, I do. But as I was helping my students gaze into their crystal balls, I suddenly sensed an unholy disturbance in the cosmos."  
  
Filch scratched the back of his neck, shifting his weight uncomfortably from foot to foot. "Er... did you now?"  
  
Professor Trelawney nodded gravely. "Indeed I did. I saw that you were in immediate danger, and I hurried here to help!"  
  
"Well, as you can see I'm just fine, so... you can leave now." Professor Trelawney, however, only stood there looking mystical as always. "No, seriously... you can go."  
  
"Argus, my dear Argus, do not resist the powers of the universe. Forces are at work here that we dare not presume to understand!"  
  
"Er... what?"  
  
"You can't possibly expect to defy the all-knowing fates!"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
Professer Trelawney sighed and threw up her hands. "The Snog, man," she spelled out for him, dropping the omniscient tone. "I've come to relieve you of the Snog."  
  
"Oh... Oh!" It dawned on him. He looked over at Professor Trelawney and wrinkled his nose. "Forget it. You're bonkers. I've told you at every staff Christmas party, and I'll tell you again... I'm never snogging you!" He stepped back slowly but firmly, sending her the message but at the same time trying not to make any sudden movements.  
  
Trelawney grinned seductively (Again, take the time to picture this: Trelawney... seductive) and approached the retreating custodian. "Oh, now, Argus... you mustn't refuse me. Fate has brought me here when all others have shunned you. You have only mere moments before the Snogging Spell takes over, and I'm your only hope." She backed him up into a wall and stared at him with her creepy bug-like eyes. "So what's it going to be?"  
  
Filch sighed in desperation as he weighed his options. Be cursed and deal with a horrible affliction for a year, or swap spit with Lady Heebie Jeebies. "I hate this bloody school," he muttered, as he dove in for the gooey wet lips of the divination teacher. Mrs. Norris turned her little cat head, unwilling to witness such horror. 


	10. The Game Gets Rough

Author's Note: Congratulations to Athene, whose review is priveleged to have made me laugh. Because of this, I have used part of the review in question in this chapter! :)  
  
A group of seventh-year Gryffindors stood around beside the groundskeeper's house for their Care of Magical Creatures lesson. Class should have started quite some time ago, but Hagrid was occupied trying to calm down an angry... an angry... an angry something or other. The students were grateful for the disruption and took this free time to do what students do best: sit around and do nothing.  
  
"How's that Snog coming along, George?" asked Lee Jordan as the boys stood around in a group.  
  
George suavely pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket and skimmed through it. "Well," said George, inspecting the parchment with a professional air. "The current Snog-holder is none other than Professor Trelawney." George chuckled. "How's that for a trip?"  
  
Lee exploded into laughter. "Trelawney? That nutter? She's going to have to find someone in a coma to get rid of it!"  
  
"The sheer lack of logic behind this Snog-passing business is mind- blowing," noted Fred.  
  
Angelina gave George a curious glance. "How in the bloody hell do you find out where the Snog is so quickly?" she asked.  
  
George shrugged with a menacingly innocent (how's that for a superb oxymoron?) grin on his face. "My methods are of the utmost secrecy, Angelina. Besides, even if I explained them to you, understanding it all would be far beyond your grasp, dearie."  
  
Angelina rolled her eyes. "Riiiiight. Are you sure you didn't have some sort of accident in Potions lab yesterday? Or maybe had some bad cheese at lunch?"  
  
"Well would you look at that," said Lee. The other students in the group turned their heads towards the castle, where Professor Trelawney was airily making her way across the lawn.  
  
"Oh, Hagrid!" she called in her foofy voice. Her bug-eyes twinkled evilly. "I've got a present for you!"  
  
Hagrid's attention was pulled away from the vicious creature he was wrangling. His eyes grew wide with fear as he saw Professor Trelawney moving determinedly towards him. The creature bit Hagrid with his foaming teeth, but Hagrid was far too afraid of the bug-eyed foe to worry about a mere rabid beast. He ran.  
  
As the chase began, a glimmer formed in Lee's eyes and he immediately whipped out his wand and called, "Sonorus!" With that, his voice was magnified several times and he had the attention of his classmates who were watching the feathery Trelawney gain on the enormous groundskeeper. Lee was in his element.  
  
"Ladies and gentlemen of the Seventh-year Care of Magical Creatures' Class, if you'll kindly turn your attention to your left you'll see a large man in a moleskin coat being chased by a wiry old bat of a teacher. Today's competitors are none other than our own groundskeeper Rubeus Hagrid, weighing in at... well, a hell of alot, I can tell you that much, versus the all-seeing divination diva Professor Trelawney. As you can see the chase is just heating up as Trelawney attempts to pass the cursed Snog to Hagrid? Oh! And as you can see Hagrid has taken a nasty dive into a puddle... Trelawney's gaining... and she's... why, hell, she's leapt right into the air, ladies and gentlemen! She's going to land right on-- wait, no, Hagrid's rolled out of the way. Trelawney takes a nasty spill in the mud, as Hagrid struggles to his feet. The chase continues! This will be an interesting race indeed, folks. And there goes Trelawney, hot on his tail! Extremely hot... in fact, I believe she's on fire! Yes, Hagrid has cast some sort of mild fire spell on her as a diversion. What determination, folks! He won't be taken alive, this one! Just a quick side note to our listeners out there, today's entertainment is brought to you by Hogwarts' own George Weasley. Give the crowd a wave, George, there's a good lad. Oh! Now turn your attention back to the chase and you'll see Professor Trelawney is mere INCHES away from Hagrid! She's gaining.... gaining... AND SHE'S GOT HIM! Wait... Wait a minute! Hagrid is still running, I repeat, the bloke is STILL RUNNING! Trelawney's dangling from Hagrid's back the way a glob of grease would be to Snape's head! What a grip she has! Uh-oh, folks, I see some more mud puddles up ahead... Hagrids teetering... teetering... he's down! Trelawney's moving in for the kill... here it comes... and... HE'S BEEN SNOGGED! TRELAWNEY HAS PASSED THE SNOG! THE CROWD'S GOING WILD!"  
  
Indeed, the crowd was going wild. Some with excitement, some confused, others in hysterics, and still others mortified beyond description. They ran to the heaping muddy pile that was Trelawney and Hagrid. Trelawney pulled her lips away from Hagrid and stood up quite gracefully, despite the fact that mud coated nearly every inch of her robes. She looked at the approaching students and bowed graciously.  
  
"I have fulfilled the cosmos' will," she said. "My work here is done. I'd say a bath is in order." She turned and marched up the lawn, leaving as quickly and mystically as she had arrived.  
  
"Hagrid, you all right?" asked Angelina.  
  
Hagrid shook his head vaguely, laying on his back and staring blankly at the sky above him. He was still shaking with fear. And it was hard to tell, but he even seemed to be on the verge of tears. The students crowded closer around the defeated Hagrid, talking excitedly with one another. Over all the voices, though, a commanding female voice could be heard.  
  
"Step aside, step aside," snapped Katie Bell. She used her powerful Quidditch-conditioned arms to shove the other students out of her way until she reached Hagrid. She knelt down beside him. "Hagrid? Can you hear me?"  
  
Hagrid's eyelids fluttered a bit and he started recovering from the shock. "Er... yeah? What is it?"  
  
"I realize this might not be the best time, but I have an enormous favor to ask of you."  
  
Hagrid sat up, still a bit shaken. "What is it, then?"  
  
Katie blushed a bit, but she had a determined look about her face. "I need you to pass me the Snog, please."  
  
"WHAT?"  
  
"Oh, don't ask questions, Hagrid. I just absolutely must have that Snog."  
  
Hagrid looked away and shook his head fiercefully. "Absolutely not. Yer a student. It wouldn't be proper at all. Nope. Not doing it."  
  
Katie pouted and gave him the puppy dog face. "Pleeeeeeease, Hagrid? I need the Snog, I'm telling you!"  
  
Hagrid's face remained strong. "Forget it. And the puppy face won't work on me. After all my time with Fang, I've learned to resist."  
  
Katie's face started to turn red. "Hagrid. Give. Me. The. Snog."  
  
"Huh?" Hagrid and the other students stared at her, bewildered. "Just what's so big about this Snog, eh? Why on earth would ya want a cursed Snog anyway?"  
  
"I just do, okay, now cough it up!"  
  
"No."  
  
At this point, Katie was crimson. Hagrid was startled as she tightly gripped the collar of his shirt. "Listen to me, Hagrid. I want that Snog. I NEED that Snog. NOW GIVE ME THE BLOODY SNOG BEFORE I LOSE MY TEMPER!"  
  
Confused and taken aback, Hagrid sighed with expaseration and leaned forward to give the angry seventh-year her snog. As soon as they broke away, Katie had returned to her cheerful demeanor.  
  
"Oh, thank you, Hagrid!" she said with a shiny smile. She even leaned forward and gave him another peck on the cheek in gratitude, this one Hagrid couldn't help but blush at. "You're a pal!" She promptly hopped up and took off excitedly in the direction of the Quidditch field.  
  
"That's it," said Hagrid, standing up and sighing yet again. "I'm gettin' out o' this madhouse. If anyone neeeds me, I'll be at the Three Broomsticks.... for a LONG while." 


	11. The Evening Continues

Ginny Weasley dressed herself in her scarlet red practice robes and hurried out onto the Quidditch field. It was hard enough being the rookie on the team, especially one that was expected to play the position the legendary Oliver Wood had just left behind, AND on the team that a large chunk of her brothers had done so well at; the last thing she needed was to be late for practice. Clutching her second-hand broom, she expected to see the team already up in the air, giving her disapproving glares.  
  
Instead, she saw only two figures overhead, dashing about like mad. The rest of the team stood in clump, watching the two flyers with pure enjoyment.  
  
"What's going on?" asked Ginny, joining her teammates.  
  
"Katie Bell's got the Snog," George replied. "And she's gone after Oliver. They've been at this for... oh, I'd say about twenty minutes now. It's quite a show, actually."  
  
"Don't you mean Professor Wood?" Fred asked with jovial sarcasm. They snickered at the thought... Professor and Wood just aren't two words that ought to be put together.  
  
"Now, really, Katie!" they heard former captain Oliver Wood scream as he zoomed about on his broom. "You are completely out of line! I am your teacher, and as such as I order you to stop this nonsense right now!"  
  
Katie let out a shrill giggle. "Oh, you're loving this nonsense and you know it! No come here, you sexy Professor you!" The chase continued.  
  
"Oh, yes," said Ginny, trying to sound as uninterested as possible. "I'd forgotten all about that silly Snog." That was a blatant lie, of course. Ginny had hoped against hope to receive that Snog from Har-- from someone, from the moment she'd heard about it. Of course, things hadn't worked out exactly the way she'd hoped they would. She glanced over longingly at Harry for a moment and sighed.  
  
Ginny pushed her unpleasant thoughts away and tried watching the chase like everyone else. It actually was very entertaining. Besides Oliver's desperate pleas and Katie's ceaseless taunting, there was also the excitement of watching two skilled Quidditch players go at it. Oliver weaved and spun through the air, flying with magnificent skill, but Katie kept close on his tail. Oliver led Katie higher and higher, and she had nearly caught up to him when he suddenly dove downward. His path was straight and fast, but Katie was quick to follow.  
  
"There going to crash!" squealed Alicia Spinnet.  
  
Indeed, it did look rather treacherous. Out of nowhere, though, Oliver pulled straight up just before hitting the ground. Katie let out a terrified squeal just before colliding and taking a mouthful of dirt.  
  
"Woa! Awesome Wronski Feint!" Lee shouted excitedly. The other team members nodded and applauded in agreement.  
  
Katie groaned as she spit out blades of grass and clumps of dirt. She slowly got to her feet, feeling dizzy. Her eyes frantically searched about, and she saw that Oliver had flown a safe distance away. "Aw, nuts," she said, cursing under her breath as she marched towards her fellow team members.  
  
"Can't blame a girl for trying," she said with a shrug and a smile. She turned to Ginny, placed her hand on the younger girls shoulder, and dove in for a wet delicious kiss. "Perhaps you'll have better luck with it, eh?"  
  
Alicia and Angelina giggled at their friend. George, Fred, and Harry all stood open-mouthed in horror. Katie Bell was an attractive girl and normally it would have been a treat to see something as kinky as her kissing another girl. But since it was little Ginny, who was their sister (or almost-sister in Harry's case) definitely NOT another girl.  
  
Ginny was in shock. Sure, getting the Snog sounded like a good idea in her head, but when it was actually in her possession she found herself paralyzed with fear. Me, boring old Ginny Weasley? she thought to herself. Where I am I ever going to find anyone that would want to snog me? For a fleeting moment she thought perhaps she could convince Neville to snog her, since he was almost as timid as her, but that thought quickly faded when she remembered she'd heard he'd already gotten the Snog.  
  
"Oh, no..." whine Ginny in despair. "I'll never get rid of it."  
  
Katie gave her a powerful, reassuring slap on the shoulder. "Oh, don't be silly! Any bloke'd lucky to get a Snog from you. And I can say that from experience." George, Fred, and Harry simultaneously shuddered.  
  
"But..."  
  
"No buts about it, Gin-Gin. A life lived in fear is... uh... well, it's a life lived without much snogging, I can tell you that much."  
  
"But..."  
  
Ginny found her mouth smothered by yet another tasty Snog from Katie Bell. "There now, see? It's not hard at all. You've just got to take command! You're the boss of that Snog now!"  
  
"Wait a minute!" squealed Alicia. "Does this mean Katie's got the Snog again?"  
  
George shook his head. "No, each person can only have it once. Ginny's still got the Snog. There wasn't any magic involved in that last kiss at all..." He thought about that statement for a moment. "So wait... agh! Katie, why would you snog my sister if there wasn't any magic involved." More shuddering on the part of Harry and the Weasley twins.  
  
Katie ignored them. "Got it, Ginny? Now go get 'em! You can do it!"  
  
Ginny bit her lip. "But I don't even know where to start looking... almost everyone I know has gotten it..."  
  
She was interrupted by yet another ferocious snog from Katie. "Then snog a complete stranger! Go wild! You can do it, I say!"  
  
Ginny sighed in exasperation. "Oh, but I'm just not good at this sort of thing at all..." Smack! Ginny was hit with another kiss.  
  
"Oh, you're fine, trust me," said Katie, panting for breath. "Now have a little faith in yourself and get to snogging. And do it fast, too. My lips are getting tired, woman!"  
  
"But..."  
  
"KATIE BELL IF YOU SNOG MY SISTER ONE MORE TIME I'LL SIC A BLUDGER ON YOU!" howled Fred. Katie stopped herself, for she was indeed leaning in for another kiss. Fred took a deep breath. "Er.. sorry about that. But, you know... you're tainting my little sister, man."  
  
Tainted? thought Ginny. That's just the sort of thing Fred would say... or any of her brothers, for that matter. Always thinking of Ginny as the innocent one, the one that couldn't be exposed to anything that would "taint her." Well, not anymore! she thought firmly to herself. I've just got to take control, just like Katie said.  
  
Without another word spoken, Ginny dashed over to Lee Jordan, the only member of the Quidditch team who had yet to be Snogged. She laid a bit wet one on him, working her tongue with expert ease. When she was done, she beamed proudly at her handy work. The three female chasers applauded her as Fred, George, and Harry only shuddered in horror yet again.  
  
[And then, suddenly, the author of this story grew very very lazy. She waved her magic keyboard and three asterisks appeared on the page, representing a time lapse]  
  
* * *  
  
"Yous must be getting quiet, Dobby," squealed Scrabby, one of the chief kitchen the house-elves. "Wes mustn't talk about students the way you is doing!!"  
  
But Dobby couldn't keep still. As the house-elves worked hard to clean-up the kitchen for the evening and prepare for their nightly roundx, Dobby scampered around the kitchen, eager to find someone to listen to all that he had heard. After dinner, when the Weasley twins stopped by to get their weekly store of sweets, they had told him all about the excitement that had been going around Hogwarts that day.  
  
Dobby wanted to share this story with the others, but no one seemed interested. House-elves were not keen to gossip, given their obsessively loyal nature. Dobby sighed in dismay. Having something interesting to say wasn't any fun if no one was willing to listen.  
  
Suddenly, a house-elf burst into the kitchen in tears. Dobby recognized the voice and ran to help. "Winky?" he asked. "What happened? Why is Winky crying?"  
  
Water poured from the enormous eyes of the petite house-elf and she looked up at Dobby. "Winky is... Winky is..." She burst into tears yet again, but before Dobby could offer another comforting word, he was silenced by a kiss. He blushed fiercely, so much so that even the tips of his oddly- shaped ears were pink.  
  
Winky continued to bawl. "Winky is sorry, Dobby, but while she was cleaning the halls a student was sneaking up on her and kissing her! And so Winky had to kiss Dobby, you see, so Winky would not be getting a Snogging curse!"  
  
Dobby smiled nervously and pat Winky on the shoulder. "It's okay, Winky. Dobby does not mind." Quite the contrary, Dobby was thrilled, but he was far to shy to say so. Besides, he was pink enough as it was.  
  
"DOBBY!" cried Scrabby, approaching them with a tray containing Fig Newtons, lemon drops, a Chocolate Frog, and a glass of warm milk. "Take this to Dumbledore's chambers."  
  
Dobby nodded obediently and took the tray from Scrabby. He turned away from Winky and headed for the exit, but stopped suddenly in his tracks. He turned around, approached Winky, and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. Then, he turned and ran as fast as he could, for his face was nearly scarlet.  
  
He crept through the halls of Hogwarts quietly and indiscreetly, the way a good house-elf would do. All the while, though, his mind was slightly troubled. If he understood George and Fred's explanation correctly (which is not always an easy thing to do with those two), then he now possessed the cursed Snog, and he only had thirty minutes to get rid of it.  
  
"Ah, Dobby," said Dumbledore in warm greeting once Dobby had entered. "Thank you so much. I never can get to sleep without a little late-night snack."  
  
Dobby nodded and placed the tray on a nearby table. "It is Dobby's pleasure, Headmaster." Dobby's eyes darted around the room nervously as he wiggled his fingers and shifted his weight from foot to foot.  
  
Dumbledore gave the elf a curious look. "Is something wrong, Dobby? Something on your mind?"  
  
The house-elf sighed. "Wellllll.... can Dobby ask a question, sir?"  
  
The old wizard smiled warmly. "Of course."  
  
"You see, sir... well... the Weezey twins... and Winky... and then...." Dobby let out a frustrated yelp and dove for the Headmaster, giving him a good wet snog.  
  
The two broke away, Dobby feeling very awful indeed, and Dumbledore laughing like mad.  
  
"Dobby is so so so sorry, Headmaster!" cried the elf.  
  
"Oh, no, not at all," said Dumbledore with that old twinkle in his eye. "I remember the custom very well. And who am I to stand in the way of an unofficial tradition?" 


	12. Midnight: The Final Snog

Author's Note: I think a few folks may have misunderstood the last chapter. Lee did NOT snog Winky. There was a lapse in time, meaning the details of all the snogs in between Lee and Winky were not disclosed. We shall never know what happened in that time frame... or will we?  
  
There was a swish of robes as Albus Dumbldore sauntered through the halls, looking suave and debonair. Okay, well, maybe he didn't LOOK suave and debonair, but he was thinking it in his head. If that counts for anything. He made a sharp right and headed towards the chambers of none other than Minerva McGonagall.  
  
"Ganja," he said to a seemingly innocent statue of a lioness. Upon hearing the password, the statue moved over two feet and a doorway was revealed. Dumbledore stepped through into the darkened room. He muttered a quick spell to light all the torches in the room. Once the room was lit-up, he saw that Minerva's wand was only inches from his nose.  
  
He smiled at her. "Minerva," he said calmly. "How did you know it was me?"  
  
McGonagall tightened her grip on the wand and eyed him fiercely. "Let's just say I suddenly acquired an incredible admiration for Professor Trelawney's work, decided to dedicate my life to it in honor of her, and saw you coming in my crystal ball."  
  
"You heard my robes swish again, didn't you?" The old wizard sighed. "I've been meaning to do something about that..."  
  
"Never mind how I know, the fact of the matter is that I know. I know what you're here for, and I demand that you turn around and leave at once, Albus."  
  
"Oh, come now, Minerva." Dumbledore took a step closer to her, despite the threatening wand pointed right at him. "What kind of professors would we be if we didn't humor the students?"  
  
"Smart ones."  
  
Dumbledore shrugged. "Very well, Minerva. You leave me no choice." The wizard cleared his throat and met McGonagall's eyes, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. He bellowed: "L is for the way you look at me! O is for the only one I see!"  
  
"No, no! Anything but that, Dumbledore!"  
  
However, the wizard's song was not stopped. Instead, he grabbed hold of McGonagall and began to tango around the room as he serenaded. "V is very, very," [stomp, stomp] "Extraordinary. And E is even more than anyone that I adore..."  
  
"Why me?" cried McGonagall.  
  
"AND LOVE IS ALL THAT I CAN GIVE TO YOU! LOVE! IS MORE THAN JUST A GAME FOR TWO! TWO IN LOVE CAN MAKE IT..." Dumbledore paused and looked at McGonagall. She shook her head defiantly, but Dumbledore kept staring.  
  
She sighed in defeat. "Take my heart but please don't break it," she sang half-heartedly.  
  
Dumbledore smiled. "Love! Was made for me and you!"  
  
"Oh, very well," said Minerva, tossing her wand to the ground as she and Dumbledore shared a scrumptious snog.  
  
----------------  
  
Meanwhile, in the Gryffindor tower, the students were milling about in the common room, jovially discussing the various snogs they had witnessed that day. A few people pondered who could have possibly started Pass the Snog Day up again; George merely smiled smugly.  
  
The only one who wasn't downstairs enjoying the fun was Harry Potter. He had retired to the dormitory to write a letter to Sirius. He didn't much feel like talking about Pass the Snog Day... his own experience had been rather dreaful and he didn't care to bring it up amongst his peers. As he scrawled on a piece of parchment, he heard the door open and he looked up to see who'd come in.  
  
"Hey there, Harry," said Seamus.  
  
"Hello Seamus," Harry replied unenthusiastically. He didn't feel like talking to anyone at the moment. He proceeded to concentrate on his letter, ignoring Seamus.  
  
Seamus stood in the middle of the room, shifting uncomfortably. After what seemed to be a moment of thought, he stepped forward and took a seat beside Harry.  
  
Caught off guard, Harry fumbled to quickly cover up the letter he was working on. "Seamus? What are you doing?"  
  
Seamus took a deep breath and grinned. "Listen, Harry... I know."  
  
Harry's eyes widened. He knew? Knew what? Did he know about Sirius? Harry suddenly became very worried. "Er... um... what do you mean?"  
  
Seamus sighed and shook his head, laughing lightly. "Harry, Harry, Harry. It's okay. You don't have to be ashamed." He reached out and put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "You're not alone, you know..."  
  
"Oh, for bloody's sake..." said Harry angrily, quickly moving away from the seductive Seamus. "This is has gotten out of control." He left the dormitory and stormed downstairs.  
  
"ALL RIGHT!" he screamed to get the attention of the common room. "I want to settle this once and for all. I, Harry Potter, AM NOT GAY!!!" He exhaled in relief, glad to have gotten that off his chest. After a moment, he noticed that everyone was silent and staring at him.  
  
"That's fabulous news, Mr. Potter," said a voice from the crowd. Harry looked to the head of the room and saw that Professor McGonagall was standing there, looking authoritative. "But if you wouldn't mind, may I please get on with my announcement?"  
  
Harry blushed. "Er... sorry, Professor."  
  
"As I was saying... the culprit for re-instating this ridiculous 'Pass the Snog' ritual has been identified and shall come with me immediately. George Weasely, please step forward." There was a mild murmur through the crowd as George Weasely moved towards Professor McGonagall.  
  
"But... how did you find out it was me, Professor?" asked George.  
  
McGonagall raised a cocky eyebrow. "I, too, have my sources, Mr. Weasely. Now follow me."  
  
With a heavy sigh, George followed Professor McGonagall through the portrait hole. They walked through the dark halls of Hogwarts to McGonagall's office. When they arrived, McGonagall took a seat behind her desk and motioned for George to sit down in the chair on the opposite side. She stared at him icily once he'd taken his seat, and he wondered vaguely if he was in any sort of danger of her wrath.  
  
"So..." she said, drawing the single syllable out.  
  
"So..." George repeated. He waited for a minute, mentally preparing for the scolding to come. It didn't. "Um... Professor? If you don't mind, could I ask... are you going to punish me or what?"  
  
"Tuh! If only it were that simple, Mr. Weasley. Unfortunately, I must share in your suffering."  
  
"How's that?"  
  
McGonagall folded her hands and placed them on the desk, making her seem even more intimidating as she spoke. "It is past eleven thirty, Mr. Weasley, and I am now in possession of the Snog. You know what that means, don't you?"  
  
George swallowed. "Er... no, actually."  
  
McGonagall sighed in impatience. "Did you not even bother to get all the information before initiating this holiday? The last person to receive the Snog has to return it to the initiator at the stroke of midnight."  
  
The fear in George swelled to unspeakable heights. "You mean... you mean WE have to Snog?"  
  
McGonagall nodded solemnly. She looked as though someone had just died. "Otherwise, we BOTH get stuck with the curse. I don't know about you, Mr. Weasley, but I'm not keen on having boils all over my lips for a year. So..." She took a deep, meditative breath. "We must do what we must do!" Without another word she dove for the boy, who yelped and dodged out of the way.  
  
"Now, George, don't make this any more difficult than it has to be!" said the Professor, chasing him around her office.  
  
"No way!" cried George. "It's not worth it!" McGonagall tried to cut him off, but he skillfully leapt over her desk to escape.  
  
"Come here, you ruffian! I'm not going to live with a curse just because of your childish antics!"  
  
"Nothing doin'!"  
  
McGonagall continued to chase the lively George around her office, all the while knocking over books and things from the shelves. Finally, letting out a fierce battle cry, (You heard me right, people.... a battle cry), McGonagall jumped into the air and landed right on top of him. She pinned him to the ground and moved in for the kill.  
  
"WAIT!" cried George, who was trembling in fear as her aged, purple-ish lips moved towards him. "You don't have to do this! There is no curse! I MADE IT ALL UP!"  
  
McGonagall froze. She glared evilly at him, and a vein in her neck began to twitch. "YOU WHAT?"  
  
George exhaled in relief. "I lied about the whole thing."  
  
"But... all those Snogs... and the tradition..."  
  
"Oh, sure, I READ about Pass the Snog Day... but have you actually looked at that spell? That's some pretty complicated magic, and I wasn't about to risk my lips by trying."  
  
"So you're telling me all the hysteria today was for nothing?"  
  
George grinned. "Well, I wouldn't say for nothing. It was quite a bit fun, after all. What are we if we're not constantly rising to new challenges? As a matter of fact..." He lifted his head slightly and snogged the stunned Professor.  
  
Professor McGonagall screamed. "George Weasley!"  
  
The mischievious student simply chuckled. "You know, I was just thinking. We really ought to do this again sometime..."  
  
fin  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Author's Note: Muchos gracias to all of my reviewers! I know some of the updates for this story were way spread out, but I dig you folks who stuck with me. 325+ reviews... not too shabby. I'm also pleased to see that I've scarred and disturbed just as many people as I've made go into fits of laughter. Let us hope, for the sake of all that is good in the world, that I don't give comedy a go again any time soon. It's back to the angst category for this writer. Again, thanks to all, and if I was able to make you laugh at least once when you read this story... then I've done my part. Oh, and here's a snog for the road, eh? *MUAH* 


	13. George's List

Author's Note: Courtesy of Crimson Brandybuck, I bring you George's official "Pass the Snog Day" list!  
  
----------------  
  
George Weasley = Fred Weasley  
  
Fred Weasley = Angelina Johnson  
  
Angelina Johnson = Dennis Creevey  
  
Dennis Creevey = Colin Creevey  
  
Colin Creevey = Harry Potter  
  
Harry Potter = Parvati Patil  
  
Parvati Patil = Lavender Brown  
  
Lavender Brown = Seamus Finnegan  
  
Seamus Finnegan = Dean Thomas  
  
Dean Thomas = Terry Boot  
  
Terry Boot = Padma Patil  
  
Padma Patil = Draco Malfoy  
  
Draco Malfoy = Pansy Parkinson  
  
Pansy Parkinson = Neville Longbottom  
  
Neville Longbottom = Severus Snape  
  
Severus Snape = Hermione Granger  
  
Hermione Granger = Moaning Myrtle  
  
Moaning Myrtle = Ron Weasley  
  
Ron Weasley = Alicia Spinnet  
  
Alicia Spinnet = Argus Filch  
  
Argus Filch = Sybil Trelawny  
  
Sybil Trelawny = Rubeus Hagrid  
  
Rubeus Hagrid = Katie Bell  
  
Katie Bell = Virginia Weasley  
  
Virginia Weasley = Lee Jordan  
  
Lee Jordan = Oliver Wood  
  
Oliver Wood = Cho Chang  
  
Cho Chang = Ernie Macmillan  
  
Ernie Macmillan = Hannah Abbot  
  
Hannah Abbot = Justin Finch-Fletchley  
  
Justin Finch-Fletchley = Blaise Zabini  
  
Blaise Zabini = Millicent Bulstrode  
  
Millicent Bulstrode = Winky the House-Elf  
  
Winky the House-Elf = Dobby the House-Elf  
  
Dobby the House-Elf = Albus Dumbledore  
  
Albus Dumbledore = Minerva McGonagall  
  
Minerva McGonagall = George Weasley 


End file.
